


You're Sad When You Sleep

by emotionaloversuperheroes



Category: Batman - Fandom, DCU, Superman - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Sort Of Fluff, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionaloversuperheroes/pseuds/emotionaloversuperheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Clark are in the Watchtower together, Bruce is relieved of duty and goes to catch a nap. He has a pretty vivid nightmare and Clark ends up snuggling him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Sad When You Sleep

Clark watched Bruce rub his eyes for the eighth time before he walked over.  
“You’ve been at this for sixteen straight hours, Bruce. There’s no immediate threat. You can let me take over.”  
Batman looked at him deadpan. The mask covered his true expression, but Clark knew it’d be a scowl.  
“You’ll get square eyes!” Clark joked, “You can’t be Batman if you need glasses.” He smiled at the sitting man, who turned back to the monitors covering the Watchtower’s wall. Bruce played with some buttons and pictures of possible threats lined the left side. Joker, Lex, all the usual suspects. Bruce got to his feet and pushed past Clark, their shoulders brushing.  
“I’ll get contacts.” was the only reply Clark got before his friend stalked out of the room.

Bruce needed sleep. Sixteen hours at the monitors, eight before that fighting scumbags in Gotham, and even earlier he’d had dinner with three models. He was bone tired. He knew when he took off the suit he’d have deep bruises along his ribs and thighs. He could feel them as he walked. He desperately wanted to spend more time with Alfred and Dick, but he had a feeling, dread crawling up the bottom of his spine, something was going to happen. He wouldn’t let someone he loved get hurt because he’d been less than vigilant.

Clark heard Bruce sit down on a bed two rooms over and sigh. Clark bit his lip. Bruce was overexerting himself. The man was capable of miraculous things, but he still pushed his limits. Clark was worried. He knew Alfred would be too. Alfred was always worried. J’onn shifted through a wall, landing almost silently next to Clark.   
Clark smiled at the new man.  
“I will be leaving now Superman, I promised M’gann we would eat together. Do you have everything under control?”  
Clark nodded, “It’ll beep if there’s trouble! Have a good night J’onn and say hi to M’gann for me.” His eyes crinkled and he grinned at his friend.  
“I will Superman, thank you.” J’onn drifted away in the direction of the zeta tubes and Clark turned to survey the screens again. Nothing was wrong. The Earth stood peacefully and Clark slid into the chair in front of the monitors. It was still warm from Bruce’s body heat. 

Two hours passed in silence before Bruce’s nightmare began. Clark heard his breathing become laboured. His heartbeat raced. Clark deliberated waking him up. A whimper of pain sent Clark flying into the room. Bruce thrashed against the sheets, hands balled into fists. His chest was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and his face was contorted in agony. Clark hesitated with an arm outstretched towards him. Bruce groaned and writhed. Clark put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder and sat tentatively on the edge of the bed. A pained moan caught in Bruce’s throat and Clark pulled the unconscious man closer. He swung his legs onto the bed and drew Bruce in to his body. Clark bit his lip. Was this okay? He wanted to help. He didn’t want his friend to hurt, but he knew if Bruce had been awake he would have rejected the embrace and the comfort it lent. Bruce groaned again but his body had relaxed. The tension had drained and his hands were no longer balled into tight fists. Clark curled his right arm around Bruce’s shoulder, holding him protectively. His thumb rubbed over a raised scar. Bruce sighed in his sleep and Clark stilled for a beat before resuming his slow ministrations. 

Forty seven minutes later, Bruce had another nightmare. He clawed desperately at Clark, his nails dragging over Clark’s chest. He gasped for breath, his back arching off of the bed. Clark bit his lip again, chewing it in worry. He’d never seen someone react so violently to a dream. Should he wake him up? Clark had heard you shouldn’t wake a sleep walker, but were you meant to wake someone who was having a nightmare? He pulled Bruce closer to him, half on to his lap, both arms banding around the sleeping man. Bruce’s head rested on Clark’s collarbone and he ran his hands up and down Bruce’s arms, still holding him tightly against Clark’s chest. Bruce’s legs pedalled for a few moments, kicking invisible assailants before he relaxed. Clark pulled one arm away, softly flattening Bruce’s spiky bed hair. The strands slipped through Clark’s fingers like silk. He continued to smooth the locks long after the disarray was fixed. Bruce twitched. Clark dropped his hand to his side. He felt the other man stiffen as he began to wake up.  
“Clark?” Bruce’s voice was gruff and sleep layered. “What the hell are you doing?”  
Clark dropped his other arm and Bruce bolted upright.  
“You were having a nightmare, Bruce. I… I didn’t know what to do.” Clark was apologetic and embarrassed. He stood and walked to the door quickly. Bruce still hadn’t faced him.  
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to help. You seemed so upset, it must have been so vivid…” Clark trailed off and Bruce turned. His denim blue eyes were bright and shining.  
“I don’t need your help Clark. It’s just a dream.” His voice was brittle.  
“I’m sorry Bruce.” Clark drifted out of the room slowly, mentally berating himself.  
“But thank you.” It was a whisper soft echo of speech, but Clark caught it. He didn’t know whether Bruce had intended him to or not.

Superman hovered in front of the monitors, his eyes rigidly fixed on them. He heard Batman walk from the bedroom, but refused to turn. He refused, he refused, he – glanced round. Bruce had redressed in the suit. It fit his leanly muscled physique perfectly, Kevlar and leather protecting him from the streets of Gotham and her inhabitants. His expression was unreadable beneath the cowl.  
“I’m going back now. Flash should be here in a few minutes.” His voice was rough.  
Clark nodded, abashedly avoiding eye contact, “I’ll be fine.”  
“I have no doubt.” Bruce stared at the floating man. “I’ll see you tomorrow Clark. Have a good night.” Absolution offered in hushed tones. No hard feelings. Clark turned to the other man and smiled. The zeta tubes were in the opposite direction. Bruce had come here to ease Clark.  
“You too Bruce, goodnight.”  
Batman swept from the room, his cape swirling around him.


End file.
